Lost
by House MD Based
Summary: When Q risks his life to save James he ends up in hospital, when he wakes up there's a problem... He doesn't seem to remember who he is, let alone what happened that night... (EVENTUAL 00Q ROMANCE, so if you don't like that stuff go away.) *UPDATE: This is going to be a multichapter because... well I want it to be.
1. Chapter 1

[A.N: Okay. So, if you haven't already realised, I've been writing A LOT of 00Q stuff. I'm sorry but you can't have an OTP and not write about it, I mean that's the definition of insane, right? (that was rhetorical, don't answer that out loud because if you're in a public place you'll look weird.) Anyways, I've read a lot of fanfictions and I've read my fair share of 00Q and I've read quite a few about Bond losing his memory and Q being really upset about it, but I haven't even seen, let alone read, a fic where Q loses his memory and Bond has to deal with Q not remembering him. So here's a fanfiction about Q losing his memory. P.S... I'm sorry]

[Sometimes the characters are written out of character, due to lack of information (On my part) Of the character's personal and social life]

Warnings: Swearing.

Inspiration: 'Losing Your Memory Now." Ryan Star

Genre: Angst, humor (Possibly)

Q's POV

The adrenaline shot through my body like lightning and immediately I leaped to the left. I heard a grunt come from my right indicating Bond hadn't got out of the way fast enough.

'damn' I whispered, I should've pushed him away first, It's irrisponsible of me to assume that, in his current state, he is capable of defending himself. I opened my eyes and saw Bond. He was on the floor, leaning back with his arms propping his upper body up. The attacker advanced on him holding a length of aluminium pipe and my instincts kicked in. I hauled myself to my feet and everything seemed to slow down. Putting one foot in front of the other I began to sprint. I watched as the attacker brought the pipe above his head, with stone cold eyes and a look that could kill. I didn't have enough time. I took a risk and jumped. I bent my knees and propelled my body forwards as hard as I could. I felt a sharp pain on my head and I hit the floor on my side. The dirty, concrete and cold floor. I felt blood trickle it's way down from my forehead across my cheeks, across my nose and it got caught on my bottom lip. I tasted the coppery, metallic substance and seconds later deafening gunshots rang out from where Bond and the attacker held their confrontation and something inside me knew that Bond had met his untimely demise. My eyes fluttered, eyelids getting heavier and heavier with every passing second before I couldn't keep them open any longer. They drifted closed. Everything went black and I was sure I was dead... or at least in the process of dying. I thought about everything. How I risked my life for Bond, how the last thing I tasted was the metallic taste of my own blood. I thought about how Bond died too. About how we were bother mere metres away from each other yet we both died utterly and agonizingly alone.

Bond's POV

I sat in the hospital waiting room. It was somewhat dark due to what seemed like the lack of a good mechanic, even thought it doesn't take a mechanic to change a light bulb... or several. My leg was shaking and my head hung low. I swear it was like a scene from a movie, where someone's in surgery or something and the best friend or the lover or the family is just sat... waiting. I always thought they were exaggerating those scenes way too much but now I'm here, now I'm actually experiencing what they're going through, I understand that it's not even close to the hurt that sits in your heart, or the ache in your soul. The usual questions were running through my mind, the regular pessimistic choruses of 'What if he doesn't make it?' and 'What if he's not the same?'. I shook my head, hoping to eradicate the negativity. No luck. "What would Q do?" I asked myself. After hard thinking I just chuckled, there's no getting into that boy's head. Then it hit me. It registered in my brain. He saved my life. He saved my life and, in doing so, risked his own. I was trained for the field, I was trained to put other people before me in the field. Q wasn't. Q's just a tech nerd, he wasn't told why to prioritize other people, he wasn't told how, or even told he should. Hell he probably didn't think he even could. But he did. He put me before himself and effectively saved my life... at the cost of his own.

"Mr Bond?" A voice echoed from the other side of the room. A woman appeared from behind a pair of doors. The same doors that engulfed Q a little over two hours ago. The same two that barricaded me out here and him in there. I shot to my feet and said

"Yes?"

"He's awake..." She told me. Being an MI6 agent, the reading of body language and tone of voice was extremely important and was taught to us as if it was as vital as knowing how to breathe. Her's told me it wasn't good. I mean sure, she said he's awake so he's not dead... but there's definitely something... something wrong. She waved me over and I padded towards her. We walked for several minutes down a clean white and sterile hospital corridor and she stopped. She turned to me with sympathy shining unmistakeably in her deep brown eyes and my heart dropped. She gestured towards a door on the left and I turned to look. I could see Q through a small window in the door. He was sat on the edge of the bed, with his head in his hands, his hair all tousled up and, by the way his body was shuddering, he looked to be crying. I gulped.

"Can I...?" I said, actually making sure my voice was working properly before I approached him.

"Of course."

Bond's POV

I stepped cautiously in, the woman's sympathetic look still in the back of my mind.

"Hey..." I said softly, assuring him of my presence. The last thing I wanted was for me to startle him, especially in the unstable state he seems to be in right now. Even my scarce whisper seemed to make him flinch. His eyes snapped to mine and he sat, rigid, on the edge of the hospital bed. "How you feeling?". He stared at me blankly, his eyes nothing but green and black circles on a white background. No emotion. No nothing. "You okay?" I asked and he cocked his head to the side like a puppy who didn't understand. Usually that action would cause a smile to spread across my features but it was done so robotic, so cold, so... sharp... His eyes narrowed and I frowned. He was being unusually closed towards me. "Q?". It was his turn to frown.

"'Q'?" He asked, just hearing his voice like this... it was so heartbreaking. It was so quiet, so cracking... so forced. It's usual optimistic tone was replaced completely with a lugubrious one.

"Yes..."

"That's not my name..." He replied and there was so much confusion on his face and in his words. He lifted his left arm, revealing a hospital inpatient band. He studied it closely before looking back at me and saying "Quinn."

"I'm sorry?" I queried, assuming I'd misheard

"It says, right here, my name's 'Quinn'."

"Quinn?"

"Yes. Quinn.". I felt horrible but all I could do was laugh. A chuckle escaped my throat and he looked a mixture of offended and the same confusion that had been etched onto his face since I entered the room.


	2. Chapter 2

_**[Sometimes the characters are written out of character, due to lack of information (On my part) Of the character's personal and social life]**_

 _ **Warnings: Swearing.**_

 _ **Inspiration: "Crystals" by Of Monsters and Men**_

 _ **Genre: Angst, humor (Possibly)**_

Q's POV

My head hurt. I didn't know where I was. I don't know who I am, or why I'm here and, frankly, I'm a little scared... Oh to hell with masculinity... I'm a _lot_ scared. I sat, with my head in my hands, trying to remember something... _anything._ Anything will do. Even just my first name would satisfy me. I can't sit here, knowing nothing about me. I couldn't help tears of frustrstion coating my eyes and becoming so heavy they run down my cheeks, like warm rivers running across a surface of ice. Thawing it in a way. It was comforting. I heard the quiet sound of the door opening but I didn't move. I heard light footsteps walking across a linoleum floor and I tensed up slightly, ready to attack if I needed to.

"hey..." Came a soft voice. My body jerked because I was expecting to be grabbed... or yelled at... I snapped my gaze to the origin of the word and I was suddenly drowing in deep blue pools. "How you feeling?" He asked me. He made no attempt to move closer or even move away and for that I was oddly grateful. I just stared athim. He looked ever so slightly familiar but at the same time he looked like a complete stranger. "You okay?" He asked and there appeared to be a sense of sincerity in his tone of voice... something made me not trust him... I don't know what. I just watched him watch me, watching for any sign of telling body language... not that I know what I'm looking for. I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure out what it was about him that made me uneasy. I narrowed my eyes because it was right at the front of my brain but I just couldn't reach it... it was so close yet so far. His face displayed a sense of confusion showed by the furrowing of his brows "Q?" He asked me and something abou that word hit home. Something happened in my chest and now it was my turn to frown.

"Q?" I queried. There was _something_ about that, that just... _did something_.

"Yes..." He replied and he shifed his weight from one foot to the other, almost uneasily.

"That's not my name." I stated. Remembering the band on my wrist. I took a glance at it and searched for the 'first name' area. "Quinn." I read aloud and something felt wrong about referring to myself as 'Quinn'

"Quinn?" He asked, he clearly sensed the same wrongness around that name as I did.

"Yes, Quin." I reassured. He made a half choking sound which sounded as thought it could resemble a laugh and something felt normal about him laughing at me. I, Quinn, don't know who he is or what he's doing here... but the 'Q' in me definitely knows who he is, and definitely has strong feelings about him. I just can't tell whetehr they're good or bad yet...


	3. Chapter 3

**[A.N: I really enjoyed playing with a sort of alter ego for Q whilst he doesn't remember who he is, this side of him will only last a few chapters before he starts to change back to the type of person he was before so relax, he ain't gon' stay this way Honey]**

 **Inspiration: N/A**

Q's POV

I had been talking to the blue eyed man for a while now. Talking about anything and everything. Talking to him makes me feel like I'm at home, like I'm safe... but there was still that _something_ about him that seemed untrustworthy. I was in the middle of a sentence when I realised... I didn't know his name...

"I'm sorry, but... what's your name?" I asked and immediately regretted it. A heartbroken expression crossed his face and regret was brighter in his eyes than anything else. "I'm sorry... I- I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. I guess just the reality that you can't remember me... it kind of..." His voice trailed off and I got the feeling it didn't do that often. Guilt was piling up in my chest and I felt horrible

"I'm sorry..." I repeated and I hung my head.

"It's James... By the way..."

"What?" I asked looking up to him

"My name. It's James. James Bond." He told me with a smile, my heart skipped a beat and I knew my pulse skyrocketed "Are you okay?" James asked me and I realised I'd probably been staring at him, thinking about his name for a good ten minutes

"Perfectly fine..." I said unconvincingly as I cocked my head to the side.

"I've seen that many times before, what're you thinking about?" He asked me.

"Seen what?"

"That!" He exclaimed with a laugh and I replied with a confused look. He cocked his head to the side

"Oh! I don't know why I do that..." I stated as I looked embarrassingly to the floor and I knew for a fact I was going red.

"It's cute." James told me before immediately looking at me wide eyed. Fear was evident in him now "I didn't mean, like not by- You're not- well you are cute but I don't-"

"You're so easily embarrassed." I told him and flashed him the most sincere smile I could muster. It was his turn to hang his head. I smirked, he was definetly not usually like this. I studied his eyes- that were still fixed on the floor- for a second and I saw a small, _tiny_ , flicker of pain and I realised... It must be so hard to walk into a room and see someone you've known for a while and have them not recognise you. I mean, the way he's acting around me implies we were close and he seems to trust me so much. "I bet it's horrible..." I whispered and his eyes snapped to mine

"What?" He asked and my stomach lurched... _I had said that outloud_

"I bet it's... horrible..." I repeated a little louder and hesitant

"What is?" He asked and his brow furrowed

"Me not remembering you..." I stated and he sighed "I mean, you seem to trust me so much and you're talking to me and you know so much about me and yet you're still willing to listen to me for this long without getting bored or without getting frustrated with the fact that I don't know who you are and I feel- I feel... I.." My voice trailed off no matter how hard I willed it to carry on. I felt something warm streak down my cheek and suddenly it registered in my mind that I was crying. My hand shot up and the back of it wiped away the liquid that was collecting in my eyes. James didn't seem like the kind of person who would cry, or who would tolerate someone else who was crying.

"Why are you crying?" He asked and any emotion that was in James' voice was now non-existant... I was right

"I... It's complicated"

"It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon now, is it?" He asked as he took a seat in a chair across from me. I sat cross legged on the crisp white hospital sheets and psyched myself up to explain all the things running through my head. "Okay. Spill." He told me. I breathed in and let it out.

"I feel horrible, I keep seeing heartbreak and regret in your eyes and I can tell all this is foreign to you, and you probably don't know how to feel, and I can't help but feel that all of this is my fault and I'm here not even knowing who you are whilst you're clearly caring so deeply for me and I can't help but feel as though you're never going to want to see me again because I'll just remind you of someone you'll likely never get to speak to again because he's lost inside of me... I've known you less than an hour and I already don't want to lose you..." Once I started talking I couldn't stop and the words just left my mouth in an unstoppable chain reaction. I couldn't read his reaction. It was like he just switched his emotions and feelings off, and he did it so well it was almost like he'd been doing it day in day out for a while now.

"You'll be okay." He replied simply

" _I'll_ be okay? It's not me that something horrible has happened to!" I exclaimed and an expression crossed his face which just screamed ' _are you fucking kidding me?_ '

"Are you fucking kidding me, Q?!" He yelled. I was right... again.

"What?" I asked

"You're in a fucking hospital. You got hit with an aluminium tube and you've lost like 65% of your recent memories and you're saying nothing has happened to you?"

"Oh yeah... Fair point..." I replied. A somewhat smug look of satisfaction dominated James' features and I got the feeing he didn't get to prove me wrong a lot.


	4. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

_**ARRGGHH!**_

 _ **Okay, back to reality for second:**_

 _ **Hello. Okay, I want to start by apologising so much, because I have not updated this in like forever and Oh My God I feel so bad and Like I'm sooo sorry.**_

 _ **Now we've got the apologetic paragraph (Is it long enough to be a paragraph? We'll just call it a sentence.) Sentence out of the way, lets get onto the good stuff (Well, not really good, not for me anyway... or you... Yeah it's not good):**_

 _ **1: I am not going to be updating this a lot. I will, but not a lot and not frequently, like it will be less than once a fornight (Two weeks, if you don't know what a fortnight is. It's two weeks)**_

 _ **2: I have exams, GCSEs, and I'm being told constantly I need to revise for this stuff and like I'm behind on my coursework for two of my subjects and I'm behind on a practical in my third so I've devoted a lot of my free time to school work, which yes, I know, it sucks. I'm not happy about it either.**_

 _ **3: I have recently decided on a very VERY ambitious career choice which demands I get A's in like every subject including maths and science which I SUCK at so I'm also devoting a lot of my time to extra work and research and basically just forcing myself to understand so I can move my grade up form like an D to an A real quick.**_

 _ **4: I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW TO CARRY THIS STORY ON. Like, I try and I try but I just cannot get inspired to have ideas and even when I have ideas Ihaven't the motivation or skill to put those idea into words...**_

 _ **TO CONCLUDE, young Padawans, I am swamped with school work and the expectations of society and I have no inspiration or motivation to carry this on.**_

 _ **JUST REMEMBER:**_

 _ **This. Is. NOT. The End.**_

 _ **Cheerio old chaps for a good month or so :D**_


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